Seasons May Change
by bonjourjenn
Summary: In the hidden underworld of Paris, France, the Bohemian Revolution is in full swing. When Blaine Anderson leaves his home in London to become a piece of the revolution, he finds the true meaning of truth, beauty, freedom, and above all things, love.
1. Prologue

**This is just a prologue. I'm not sure how long this'll end up, considering it's a rewrite of the entire movie. The first official chapter will be up by May 15th, maybe before then if I can finish up my homework. Hopefully before then. If you want to track this, your best bet is tracking 'fic: seasons may change'. Or, you can alert/favorite it :) PSA: The rating may change, depending on whether or not I decide to add smut.**_  
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**I own nothing from Glee, or Moulin Rouge. :)**

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_The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return._

Paris felt darker after that night. Like the light it once had, that shined across the city when the night would come, had died out.

The typewriter had been staring him in the face for three days before he finally found the courage to sit at his writing desk.

"_You have to tell our story, Blaine," _the voice in his head whispers, shooting pain through his empty heart. _"You have to tell them that it was real, no matter what they thought."_

Blaine stares at the typewriter in front of him for another seven minutes before he starts writing.

_The Moulin Rouge, _he starts, fingers shaking on the keys. _A nightclub, a dance hall, ruled by William Schuester. A kingdom of nighttime pleasure, where the rich and powerful could come to play in secret with the young and beautiful. The most beautiful of these, though, was the man I loved. _

_Kurt Hummel. They called him their Porcelain, for his skin was pale and clear, glowing in the bright lights the Moulin Rouge would cast upon him. He sold his love to men and women alike, taking them in stride to his home; a silver, open-windowed elephant that sat almost directly in the middle of Paris._

_The man that I loved is dead._

The click-click-ding of the typewriter used to be calming. It was always his safe sound; the keys would click as he typed song after song or play after play, keeping him sane in the personal hell that he'd come from.

But now, knowing how the story ends, the repetitive sounds of the typewriter are nothing but a steady, constant reminder of the story Blaine's meant to tell.

He rubs his hand over the scruff that covers his cheeks and chin, blinks away the tears he can start to feel prickling behind his eyes, and starts typing again.

_I first came to Paris one year ago._


	2. Chapitre Un

**I promised this by May 15th and i'm early yaaaay cheers :D**

**this chapter is, frankly, a bitch to read. if you've seen the movie you know that the beginning is mostly narrated by Christian, and this chapter is narrated by Blaine. It switches POV in the end, and it will stay in third person from here on out :)**

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_It was 1899, _Blaine types. His fingers are pressing the keys down with too much force, as if he's trying to smash his feelings out on his typewriter. _It was the "Summer of Love", and I knew nothing of the Moulin Rouge and its inhabitants. The world was being swept up by the Bohemian Revolution, and I had come from London to be a part of it._

_The village of Montmartre. It was nothing like the "Village of Sin" that my father had called it; it was the center of the revolution and everything that I knew I needed. I came to live a penniless existence; to write of truth, beauty, freedom, and love, which I believed in above all things._

"_Always this ridiculous obsession with _love_," my father would say before fixing his eyes on me with a cold, hard glare. He'd stare at me for a minute before storming off, grumbling, into his office. But I didn't care about what my father had to say._

_If he knew half of what happened following my arrival, he would rave himself into an early death._

_The only problem, though, was that I had never been in love. My greatest fear upon arriving had been that I wouldn't know how to write about something I had never experienced._

_Luckily, right at that moment, an unconscious Argentinean fell through my roof. He was quickly joined by a slightly smaller man dressed as a nun._

_I watched them in confusion, and for a second I wondered if this was what the entirety of my existence here would consist of._

"_Hello," the smaller man said, sticking a hand in my face. "Name's Puckerman. Noah Puckerman. But you'll call me Puck, got it?"_

_I just nodded at him before chancing a glance at the still-unconscious man on my floor. I soon found out that he suffered from a disease called 'narcolepsy.'_

"_Perfectly fine one moment and then," Puck snored playfully. "Unconscious the next! I'm sorry about this, man, I hope he didn't do too much damage!" _

_I shook my head in disbelief, looked around at the dust and wood covering my room._

"_We were just rehearsing a play," Puck said, moving to untie the Argentinean man's leg from the rope he was dangling from. It tureds out that they were working on a thoroughly modern play called "_Spectacular, Spectacular," _a story about a young man in Switzerland and his quest for love._

_Just then, three other heads appeared at the top of the hole in my ceiling. The first was clearly the oldest, sitting in a chair and wearing a sweater vest and a pair dark-rimmed, thick glasses. The middle man had longer, blonde hair and what was clearly too much makeup on his face. The third was an Asian man, dressed in a multitude of bright colors with a top hat placed on his head._

"_How is he?" the bald one asked, looking down at the sleeping man on my floor. _

"_He'll be fine," Puck replied, finally getting the other man untied and then backing up to watch him hit the ground._

"_If he stays unconscious, we won't be able to finish in time to show it to Scheuster tomorrow!" the harsher-looking man in the middle said, glaring down at the man on the floor._

"_I still need to finish the music," the balding one added with a frown._

"_Well… we'll just have to find someone to read the part for us, until Finn over here decides to wake up again!"_

"_Where are we going to find someone to read the role of a romantic Swiss poet on such short notice?"_

_Before I knew it, I was upstairs standing in for the unconscious Argentinean. The play was, to put it frankly, quite bad, and there seemed to be some artistic differences between Sam' s -the blonde one, as I later learned- lyrics and Mike, the Asian man's, music._

_This strange, strange group seemed entirely unable to cooperate on the play as a whole, too busy fighting over what to do to fix the horrific lyrics they had originally come up with._

"_The hills are..."_

"_The hills, the hills, the hills..."_

"_The hills are vital!" Puck sang loudly, swinging himself around on a pole. "The hills, they quake and shake and-"_

"_Stop that insufferable droning, Puckerman," Sam grumbled, continuing to argue with Mike when he suggested having the melody be a delicate piano tune instead._

"_The hills are alive," I interjected, trying to get their attention._

"_The hills..." Finn interrupted me, finally awak, and he opened his mouth to finish his suggestion before falling asleep again._

_The yelling in the room got continuously louder, and I decided that the simplest way to get them to listen would be to just sing it aloud._

"_The hills are alive with the sound of music!" I sang over their fight, smiling when the four men turned to stare at me_

"_That's it!" Puck exclaimed, throwing a fist in the air. "The hills are alive with the sound of music! It's perfect!"_

"_With songs they have sung for a thousand years," I sang again, and I laughed a bit when Puck clapped his hands together excitedly._

_Sam was the only one who didn't look pleased, and he fixed his eyes on me with a cold stare._

"_The boy has talent!" Artie said triumphantly from his chair. "This could work! Sam, what if you and Blaine wrote the show together!"_

_But that wasn't what Sam wanted to hear, and five minutes later he exits the room with a loud goodbye and a slam of the door._

_The room is silent after Sam leaves, until Mike happily suggests that I would write a much better show that they could show it to William Schuester, owner of the Moulin Rouge. They planned fast, this group, and within seconds it was decided that they would dress me up as a famous English writer and set me up with a personal appointment to recite my poetry to their star._

_If I were to impress him, he would tell Schuester to supply the funding and we would get our "_Spectacular, Spectacular." _It shook my nerves to no end._

"_I can't write the show for the Moulin Rouge!" I interrupted, backing towards the door. "I mean, I don't know if I can handle that sort of pressure, I just-"_

"_Do you believe in beauty?" Puck asked me, and I nodded in response._

"_Of course."_

"_Freedom? Truth?" I nodded again. "Love?"_

_I froze just in front of the door and turn around to face him. "Love. Above all things, I believe in love. All you need is love!"_

"_You can't fool us, Blaine," Puck nearly yelled. "You're the true voice of the Bohemian Revolution!"_

_And so it was decided._

_I would audition for the Moulin Rouge's greatest treasure the following night._

_And tonight, I would drink my first glass of _Absinthe.

Everything was green. The room was green, the sky was green, _Blaine_ was green.

Blaine was pulled by the arm towards the door to the balcony, where all of a sudden he could see the green fairy flying towards them. It had been nothing but a myth to him before now, but from where he stands on the balcony, swaying slightly on his feet, he can see the fairy flying towards him.

"I'm the green fairy," it smiles, and suddenly Blaine can hear music. Apparently his friends hear it too, and soon they're dancing along the balcony, smiling and singing and without a care in the world.

_I could get used to a life like this, _Blaine thinks to himself as he dances. _I'm nearly positive that everyday will be just like this one._

They won't be.

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**PS - as of right now, updates will come on Thursdays, permitting RL doesn't get in my way :)**

**and, as always, i'm darrenshands on tumblr.**


	3. Chapitre Deux

**Things are going to start picking up after this part. But for now, I'd like you to meet my sparkling diamond :)**

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Chapitre Deux

When Blaine first catches a glimpse of himself in the small mirror in the bathroom of Puck's stateroom, he almost doesn't recognize the reflection. The man that stares back was dressed to the nines in a suit that was tailored to fit him just hours ago, a top hat placed upon his head of now gelled-down curls.

"Blaine, we need to leave! You have an audition, remember?"

Blaine smiles at his reflection, adjusts his hat, and turns away from the mirror.

The Moulin Rouge is absolutely nothing like Blaine had been expecting. He's not sure exactly what he'd expected to walk into, in fact, but this surely was not it. Everything was entirely choreographed; men surrounded the jam-packed dance floor as William Schuester led his Diamond Dogs from one end of the theatre to the other.

Men followed like cows to the slaughter, eyes focused only on the brightly-colored skirts that twirled along the dance floor and their hopes and plans for later evident on their faces.

As Puck leads their group to the table, Blaine glances over his shoulder at the tuxedo-clad men whose eyes were trailed to the ruffled panties hidden beneath the colorful skirts. He tries, successfully, if he were to say so himself, to disguise the fact that the women in skirts do absolutely nothing for him sexually.

He's afraid to admit, even to himself, that he won't have much to offer the Moulin Rouge's "Diamond" besides his mediocre poetry.

The lights dim suddenly without warning, startling Blaine and causing Puck to nudge at his shoulder and direct his eyes above.

The entire club takes on a bluish glow, small lights twinkling along almost every expanse of ceiling as millions of confetti pieces fall, silver and shimmering, from above.

"That's him," Puck says quietly, the only sound Blaine can hear in the utterly silent club. He points at the swing that slowly lowered from the open ceiling. "The Sparkling Diamond. Kurt."

_Him?_

Before Blaine is entirely able to comprehend that the person in the dangling swing is, in fact, a man, the singing begins, and Blaine loses all traces of focus.

_The French are glad to die for love_

_They delight in fighting duels_

_But I prefer a man who lives_

_And gives expensive jewels._

The music picks up, then, a fast-paced melody of brass and percussion and a cheering crowd that's nearly overwhelming.

Blaine stares unabashedly at the man whose swing is quickly lowering to the ground as it spins in a wide circle.

But what Blaine is blissfully unaware of, is that someone else was just as interested in his private session with Kurt as Blaine suddenly was.

Schuester had an investor; a rich, well-respected man with enough money to buy the Moulin Rouge four times over and still have millions to spare.

The Duke.

_A kiss may be grand_

_But it won't pay the rental_

_On your humble flat_

_Or help you feed your pussycat_

Blaine watched with wide eyes as this mysterious Kurt completely took over the crowd below with his shimmering, diamond encrusted white leotard and his top hat, mean throwing sparkling jewelry at his feet and carrying him across the dance floor.

He was so lost in Kurt's utter beauty that he completely missed overhearing the conversation going on directly next to him.

"And when do I get to meet the boy?" the Duke asks, the greed and want practically oozing from his words.

"After the number I've arranged for a special meeting, just you and Kurt. Totally alone."

The Duke looks back at the way Kurt leads the crowd around in circles, hips swinging as the men hand him gifts of flowers and jewels to try and win him over.

_Tonight, _he thinks. _Tonight the Diamond will finally be mine._

"After his number, I've arranged a private meeting, just you and Monsieur Kurt, totally alone," Puck stage whispers across the table, breaking Blaine free from his trance.

"Alone?" Blaine questions him. He didn't expect to be left entirely alone with Kurt just for an audition.

_It's just an audition, Blaine. He probably just wants to have a quiet audition, not one surrounded by a pack of crazy men._

Blaine won't admit it yet, but he finds them strangely endearing.

"Yes." Puck smiles almost wickedly in response, like he's hiding the real meaning. "Totally alone."

Blaine shakes his head and focuses on Kurt again, feeling it deep in the pit of his stomach when Kurt blows a kiss towards the crowd below.

"_Come and get me boys." _Kurt's voice has a sultry undertone, hoarse and gravelly and practically sex and the words go straight to Blaine's groin.

The men below take Kurt's legs and throw him into the air, causing Blaine to jump back, but Kurt doesn't even seem to notice. He just makes an almost girlish noise, landing happily on the men below him and allowing them to carry him into the middle of the dance floor on their shoulders.

There's a small stage there now, and Schuester stands atop it. Cane held in one hand, he grabs Kurt's outstretched one to pull him up, letting out a belly laugh when Kurt flirts shamelessly with him as he dangles a shining necklace in front of Kurt's eyes.

The girls dance around the stage, skirts a cacophony of bright colors around the small stage and on the outskirts of the dance floor. Men stare unabashedly at their lingerie, and Kurt almost wishes that he'd stayed in his village, alone, dirt broke and hungry, rather than knocking on Schuester's door.

_It's all part of the act, _Kurt reminds himself in his head as he finished his verse, letting out a breath of relief when the circle of can-can skirts is raised above him so he can change.

"The Duke is here, Kurt," William says when they're behind the skirts.

"Where is he? Will he invest?"

Schuester pops his head up from below first, rolling his eyes when he sees that Puckerman has once again crashed into something; this time, that something is the Duke's table.

What Schuester doesn't see is the man who blocks Puckerman from view seconds later, pulling his suit jacket aside to show the gun that rests in his waistband.

"He's the one that Puckerman is graciously trying to wipe liquid off of," William says when he comes back down, and Kurt smiles a bit as he nods. "And after spending the night with you, there's no way he can refuse!"

"What's his type? Wilting flower? Bright and bubbly? Smoldering, maybe?"

"Smoldering. Always smoldering. We're relying on you, Kurt, remember that."

"He's going to make you a star, poppet," William says when Kurt comes back down to finish changing. "He's going to make the Moulin Rouge a theatre, and then…"

"I'll be a real actor." Kurt's voice is full of hope; a small bit of it that's still tinged with the sequins and lace and diamonds that make up his reality.

Schuester smiles sadly, guilt sinking into his chest as he watches Kurt zip himself into a baby pink leotard, fur flowing from the sides and trailing to his feet.

"It's not even weird anymore," Kurt mumbles, mostly to himself. "Feeling like a woman."

He puts on his best stage smile and pops up from behind the can-can skirts and the crowd cheers, just like every other night.

Kurt sings the last line of the song as he's carried across the floor again, being put on his feet directly in front of Blaine's chair.

The man in front of him isn't what Kurt had been expecting in a Duke. What he _had_ been expecting the highest of quality clothes and a smirk, maybe; but the man in front of him seemed startled, almost as if he hadn't been expecting Kurt at all.

"I believe you were expecting me," Kurt says, ignoring his thoughts and sinking back into the mindset of the smoldering temptress he needs to be.

"Yes. Yes, I was."

Kurt winks, turns around to face the ground. "I'm afraid it's my choice, gentlemen," he says, pointing back towards Blaine and pouting when he doesn't automatically get up, instead choosing to stare at Kurt's back while his friends try to push him from his chair.

"I see you've met my English friend!" Puck tries to get Kurt's attention, but he's cut off.

"I'll take care of it, Puck," Kurt smiles seductively, grabbing at Blaine's hand as the music picks up. "Let's dance."

Kurt leads him across the dance floor and Blaine almost doesn't want to follow. He's lost in a sea of perfectly choreographed dance steps, awkwardly swaying along as Kurt takes the lead. He almost loses his mind when Kurt drops to the ground, his hands sliding up along Blaine's thighs before he pulls himself up again, and they start to move in sync with everyone else.

"It's so lovely of you to take an interest in our show."

"It's wonderful," Blaine replies, nearly screaming to be heard over the music, though he doesn't really need to. "I'd be delighted to be involved. Assuming you like what I do, of course."

Kurt's drops nearly half an octave when he responds. "I'm sure I will."

Blaine smiles up at his friends as he shimmies his hips with Kurt, tipping his hat to them.

"Puck thought we could, erm, do it in private," he says, voice a bit quieter than before. "A private…poetry reading."

"Oh," Kurt practically purrs, arms looping around Blaine's neck. "A poetry reading! I love a little…_poetry _after supper." Blaine's heart flutters when Kurt lets out a small giggle and backs away.

The music builds into a crescendo as Kurt kicks his legs higher than Blaine thought possible, slowly dancing away from Blaine's awestruck, blushing face and his shining hazel eyes.

Kurt says something Blaine doesn't comprehend as he walks back to his table, and the next thing he sees are hats thrown high into the air as Kurt climbs back into his leather swing, done with his act for the night.

Until later, of course.

_Square-cut or pear-shaped _

_These rocks don't lose their shape-_

Kurt goes higher and higher and Blaine barely registers the feeling of hands on his shoulders as he stares, and Blaine is so lost in his trance that he almost doesn't notice the fact that Kurt's stopped singing; that his breath is coming in quick, deep pants, like he can't get enough air into his lungs.

Kurt sways uneasily in the swing and William watches with fear, yelling out a loud "NO!" when Kurt's grip loosens entirely on the ropes.

He falls.


	4. Chapitre Trois

**Super super sorry this is like, 5 days later than i wanted it to be**

**Warnings are cross-dressing kind of (a corset), ridiculous fake sex noises, and usage of the phrase "free the tiger"**

**enjoy :)**

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When Kurt opens his eyes again, the first thing he sees is Emma sitting at the edge of the small couch he was laying on.

Emma was almost like a mother to the dancers here, but it was clear to most of them that Kurt was her favorite; like having her own little boy to take care of.

She smiles with relief when Kurt's breathing picks up, though she can't help but be concerned when it takes him a minute to catch his breath.

"Emma," he says breathlessly, and he can see the concern in her eyes. "All these…silly costumes," he tries to joke, hoping that what just happened won't affect his meeting with the Duke.

"Just a fainting spell," Emma mutters to the girls around her, though she's almost positive that there was more of a reason for Kurt to fall mid-song.

"I doubt the Duke will be getting his money's worth tonight," one of the other dancers, Rachel, stage-whispers to Mercedes.

"Don't be unkind, Rachel."

"I was just making a point, that's all! Maybe I'll just have to take Kurt's job for the night."

"Nothing to see here, ladies," Emma cuts in, giving Rachel her best glare before she looks back at Kurt when he starts coughing. She puts her handkerchief to his lips so he doesn't get germs on the couch below him, shocked to see blood staining the white fabric when she pulls it back.

She's just about ninety percent sure she knows exactly what caused Kurt to fall tonight.

"The Duke has really taken a liking to you, Kurt," Emma says into the mirror while she ties him into a dark corset. "A patron like him, Kurt, will make you a star. He can give you everything you ever dreamed of."

"You think I could make it, Emma?"

"You've got the talent! You hook that Duke and your name will be lighting the stages of Europe by the end of next year."

"I'll be a real actor, Emma. And I can fly far, far away from here," Kurt titters at the yellow canary in the cage beside his vanity.

"Is everything alright in here?" William's voice bellows from the entryway.

"Oh! Of course, William!"

"Thank goodness," he smiles at Kurt's reflection. "You certainly…weaved your magic on that Duke on the dance floor!"

Just then, Emma pulls back and Kurt turns, dramatically throwing a hand over his eyes.

"How do I look?" he asks, gesturing to the tight black corset and boy shorts, black satin gloves and matching thigh-length, sheer tights attached to the panties. "Smoldering enough for you?"

William lets out an excited yelp, running across the room to get a better look. "How could he possibly resist just…gobbling you up!" he says to Kurt, who laughs. "Everything's going so well!"

Roughly an hour later, Kurt stands behind his partition, adjusting his tights and throwing on a sheer robe as he tries to prepare himself for what is sure to be a long night.

Across the room, staring out the heart shaped window, Blaine stands awkwardly holding his top hat in one hand. His mind is racing; trying to decide which poems to recite for Kurt and trying to calm his nerves enough to speak through it without losing his mind.

His friends were shocked when he had been invited directly up to Kurt's private quarters: a tall elephant statue with a single bedroom at the top.

"It's a lovely place for a poetry reading, don't you think?" Kurt asks seductively as he walks out from behind the partition. When Blaine turns to look at him, the outfit Kurt is wearing isn't what he had been expecting. "Poetic enough for you?"

"Oh, um, y-yes." Blaine nearly forces the words out, trying to look directly into Kurt's eyes.

"Would you like some champagne, maybe?" Kurt walks towards the small table and starts to pour a glass, swinging his hips as he pours.

"I'd rather just…get started," Blaine says in reply, looking a bit confused and awkward when Kurt slams the bottle back into the ice bucket.

"Oh." Kurt turns, raising an eyebrow and lowering his voice as he climbs slowly onto the bed. "Very well."

Blaine gapes, his eyes wide with shock when Kurt lies across the bed, already feeling a twist in his stomach when Kurt pulls his robe back, exposing his legs.

"Why don't you come sit? Let's get it over and done with."

Blaine knows that if he sits next to Kurt on that bed, there will be no possible way for him to avoid distraction.

So instead of moving, he mumbles, "I prefer to do it standing." But when Kurt moves to the edge, Blaine stops him. "You don't have to stand! I just…sometimes, it's…it's quite long, and I'd like you to be comfortable." He pauses when Kurt's eyes widen and Blaine assumes he's intrigued. "It's quite modern, what I do, and it…may feel a little strange at first b-but I think if you're open then you might enjoy it!"

"I'm sure I will," Kurt replies when Blaine stops his rambling. Though usually Kurt has to feign excitement on nights like this, for some reason this man actually has him waiting for more.

"Excuse me," Blaine says softly, walking to the other end of the room to collect his thoughts. "The sky," he starts, but he cuts himself off when he sees Kurt running his hands up his own thighs.

He turns quickly around again, looking away from Kurt and starting his normal pre-performance vocal exercises. He buzzes his lips and makes different, strange sounds, and Kurt almost wants to laugh from his place on the bed._ This needs to begin now_, Kurt thinks. _Or Schuester will be suspicious._

"Is everything alright?" Kurt asks, exasperated and ready to get the night over with.

"I'm just a bit nervous. Sometimes it takes a little while for, um…inspiration to come."

"Oh. Oh, yes, yes, yes!" Kurt stands, standing up and coming towards where Blaine stands. "Let me help," he says, voice low once more as he hand comes down to cup the front of Blaine's trousers and smirking to himself when Blaine lets out a noise. "Does that _inspire_ you?"

The next thing Blaine knows, he's being thrown on the bed and Kurt's eyes are full of…lust?

"Let's make love," Kurt says, jumping onto the bed and swinging a leg over Blaine's to straddle his lap.

"Make love?"

"You want to, don't you?" Kurt asks as he pulls on Blaine's bowtie.

"I—" Blaine starts, but he's cut off by Kurt's hand over his mouth.

"Shh, tell the truth. Can't you feel the poetry?" Kurt's hands move to swiftly start unbuttoning Blaine's dress shirt. His hands lightly trail down Blaine's chest, and he smirks when Blaine moans loudly.

"Free the tiger!" he yells, throwing his head back while his hand strokes Blaine's hardening cock through the fabric between them. When Blaine moans again, Kurt pops the button on his pants and gasps excitedly. "Big boy!"

Unbeknownst to both of them, Puck is swinging back and forth outside of the window beside the bed. He uncovers his eyes and turns his head to yell back at his friends when they start to pull him back. "He's got a huge talent!"

"Yes, yes, I need your poetry now!" Kurt nearly yells, just about to wrap a hand around Blaine's cock when, suddenly, Blaine jumps up out of the bed with a yelp, fastening his pants as he gets up.

"It's a little bit funny," he starts, his voice breathless from moving so quickly.

"What?"

"This…feeling inside," Blaine continues. "I'm not one of those who can e-easily hide." He pauses and looks to Kurt whose face betrays his shock at the turn of events. "Is this okay? Is this what you w-want?"

"Oh, poetry," Kurt replies, calming himself enough to let the seductive look mask his face again while he thinks of a reply. "Yes, yes, yes, this is what I want; naughty words!" he says, rolling around on the bed and giggling.

"I-I don't have much money," Blaine continues despite the way Kurt is writhing on top of the sheets. "But if I did, I'd buy a-a big house where we both could-could live."

"Oh!" Kurt practically mewls and Blaine is almost thrown off. "Oh, that is so bad!"

"Um, I, if I were a sculptor, but then again n-no; or a man that makes p-potions in a travelling show!"

"You devil," Kurt says, crawling onto the floor and clutching a pillow to his chest, body thrashing on the floor. "Don't! Don't, don't stop!"

"I know it's not much—"

"Give me more!"

"—But it's the best I can do—"

"Yes! Yes! Naughty! Don't stop!"

Blaine looks back at Kurt, unsure whether to be scared or aroused at his words and actions. He turns toward the window and with a quick bought of confidence, he finds that the only way to get Kurt's attention would be to sing.

"_My gift is my song_,"he sings his voice loud and words bold. "_And this one's for you._"

Kurt freezes at the first note, watching Blaine with both shock and awe, pushing himself up off the ground as Blaine continues to sing.

_And you can tell everybody_

_That this is your song_

_It may be quite simple but now that it's done_

_I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind_

_That I put down in words_

_How wonderful life is, now you're in the world_

Kurt's mouth parts slightly as he listens, his attention entirely focused on the man in front of him. Blaine takes this reaction as a positive one, and as the song continues, his voice grows more and more confident and he smiles through his words.

Kurt stands then, watching Blaine's back and then smiling slightly when Blaine turns to walk toward him. They both walk forward near the open entryway of the Elephant, Blaine smiling wider when he looks back at Kurt.

_So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do_

_You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue_

Blaine takes Kurt's hand in his and holding it loosely, running his thumb across Kurt's knuckles before looking into his eyes again.

_Anyway the thing is what I really mean_

_Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen_

He twirls Kurt around in circles during a pause, and suddenly he feels that he could jump through the air and spin this smiling man around the rooftops of Paris in millions of different dances for the rest of his life.

_I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind_

_That I put down in words_

_How wonderful life is while you're in the world_

He wraps his arms around Kurt's waist and dips him low, keeping eye contact as his song comes to a close.

"It looks like he's got the job!" Puck yells from outside the window, but Kurt and Blaine are too lost in each other's gaze to notice him hanging there.

"I can't believe it," Kurt says softly, one arm coming down from around Blaine's neck to rest over his heart, smiling up at Blaine. "I'm in love. I'm in love with a young, handsome, talented Duke."

"Duke? I'm not a Duke." Blaine's voice still sounds breathlessly happy, but Kurt's smile falters completely. "I'm a writer."

"A writer?"

"Yes, a writer." Kurt pushes into a standing position, shock evident on his face.

"Puckerman—"

"Puckerman? You're not one of his incredibly talented, charmingly Bohemian, tragically impoverished protégés, are you?"

Blaine laughs awkwardly. "You might say that."

"Oh no. Oh no! But the Duke!"

"The Duke?" Blaine asks just as there's a knock at the door. Kurt opens it slightly to find William chatting up a man with greasy hair and an almost wicked sneer.

"The Duke! Hide! Out back!" Kurt exclaims, but his voice has an almost breathless quality. Before Blaine can run outside, the door slams open.

* * *

**the song is, of course, Your Song, by Elton John**


	5. Chapitre Quatre

A/N: yes yes this is late it's all starkid's fault :)

enjoy hehehe

* * *

Kurt pushes Blaine behind his legs and underneath his black robe just as William's face appears in the room.

"Dearest Duke," William says after sharing a meaningful look with Kurt that tells him exactly what needs to happen tonight. "Allow me to introduce our lovely star, Kurt."

"My dear Duke, how wonderful of you to take time out of your busy schedule to visit." Kurt's voice is two octaves lower than it was before and Blaine watches from behind the small table as the Duke comes forward.

"The pleasure, I fear, will be entirely mine," he says as he takes Kurt's hand in his when Schuester leaves. Blaine thinks his voice sounds almost…maniacal. "A kiss on the hand may be quite continental…"

"But diamonds are a girl's best friend," Kurt giggles in reply, taking the Duke's hat and cane before sitting back on the bed.

"Surely after those pretty little exertions on the stage tonight, you'll be in need of refreshment?"

"No!" Kurt lets out a breathless yell, directing the Duke's attention to the entryway so Blaine can change his hiding place. "Don't you, uh, just…love the view?

"It's…charming," says the Duke, turning towards the table again before being distracted by Kurt suddenly dancing, his robe swaying around him.

"I feel like dancing!"

"I should like a glass of champagne," Kurt hears the Duke say, but when he looks over, Blaine's head is popping out from behind the table.

Kurt stops dancing immediately and the Duke turns, Blaine's head lowering behind the small table again. "It's, uh…it's a little bit funny," Kurt says, his voice almost panicky. "This…feeling inside."

"What is?" the Duke asks, champagne bottle in hand, and Blaine's head pops out from behind the table to stare at Kurt in confusion.

"This…"

"Feeling," Blaine mouths at Kurt, and Kurt repeats it quickly. Kurt's eyes follow Blaine's lips as he mouths the words

"I'm not one of those who can…easily, _hide!" _he puts emphasis on the last word and Blaine jumps back a bit, hitting a plate with his hand and jumping behind the table again.

The Duke nearly turns to find the source of the noise, but Kurt falls to his knees before him and continues dramatically, hands crawling up the Dukes legs. "I don't have much money! Oh, but if I did…I'd buy a big house, where we both could live!"

Kurt slides his hands down the Duke's legs a second time, ignoring the small noise the Duke makes. He grabs at the Duke's calves and pulls his legs apart so he can clearly see Blaine, who had been hiding behind the Duke's legs all along. He mouths at Blaine to go out the main door and find Puckerman, then he closes the Duke's legs again to look up.

"_I hope you don't mind,"_ Kurt sings, eyes on the Duke's, skimming his hands up the Duke's body as he climbs up from the ground, trying to avoid looking at Blaine who is also standing up behind the Duke. "_That I put down in words…"_

The Duke locks his eyes on Kurt's when he reaches full height, face lighting up as he stares into the bright blue of Kurt's eyes. "_How wonderful life is, now you're in the world."_

"That's very, um, beautiful," the Duke whispers, not noticing how Kurt's eyes keep chancing glances back at Blaine.

"It's from _Spectacular, Spectacular,_" Kurt replies, eyes on Blaine but lips close to the Duke's. "Suddenly with you here I can fully understand the true meaning of those words." Kurt's eyes lock with the Duke's again, and his arms slide around his neck so he can point in Blaine's direction, hoping Blaine will take the hint and walk out the door.

Blaine reaches the door and pulls it open quietly, noticing the back of Karofsky, the Duke's personal manservant, standing guard outside. Blaine shuts the door quietly, but his eyes meet Kurt's again, betraying his panic.

The Duke, unbeknownst to Blaine's presence, puts a hand on Kurt's waist. "And what meaning is that, darling?"

Just then, Kurt breaks away from the Duke's hold and falls onto the bed, making sobbing noises against the sheets and effectively pulling the Duke further from Blaine's standpoint. The Duke walks slowly towards Kurt, a bit scared of the way Kurt's emotions whip around, reaching a hand out to try and grab his attention.

"Duke!" Kurt yells, sitting up and pointing at the Duke's face. "Don't toy with my emotions! They're more fragile than you know! You-you must know the effect you have on women, and men, too!"

The Duke looks almost afraid, and Blaine tries not to laugh from where he's hiding under a curtain.

"Let's make love!" Kurt says suddenly, causing Blaine to stare at him. _Is this really going to happen with me in the room? _he thinks, and if he's being honest, the thought stings a little.

"You want to make love, don't you?" Kurt pulls the Duke down on top of him, and Blaine's heart sinks when he realizes that most of what had happened between him and Kurt had been just a part of the job. It's all a scene, a game; a bunch of scripted lines that Kurt has probably used on a multitude of men since becoming the star courtesan.

"Make love?" the Duke asks, the words muffled by Kurt's skin.

"I knew you felt the same way about me," Kurt says, wrapping his arms around the Duke and pointing his right hand towards the heart-shaped opening, hoping Blaine will notice it and make an escape. He does, and despite the soreness he's starting to feel in his heart, Blaine silently makes his way towards the exit. But something in him makes him stop in his tracks, and he stares back at the bed where Kurt is holding the Duke's head against his neck and making loud, breathy noises that sound just as fake as the one's he'd made in front of Blaine.

But when Kurt locks eyes with Blaine after an exaggerated moan of, "Oh, _Duke_," something within Blaine's eyes causes Kurt's heart to ache just a little.

"You're right," he says, eyes still on Blaine's. "We should wait until opening night!"

Blaine smiles slightly and nods, finally turning and stepping behind the walls of the exit.

"Wait," the Duke says, finally freeing his head from Kurt's grip and pushing up on his hands and knees. "Wait?"

"There's a power in you that frightens me." Kurt's voice is breathy, and Blaine peeks his head out from behind the wall he's behind, watching on with a small smile as Kurt pushes the Duke off the bed and toward the front door. "You should go!"

"But I just got here!"

"We'll see each other every day during rehearsal!" Kurt says, one hand against the Duke's chest and the other pulling the door open. "We must wait. We absolutely must wait until opening night!" Kurt opens the door and pushes a protesting Duke through the door and shutting it quickly in his face.

It takes him less than half a second to point angrily at Blaine, who is standing in the middle of the room once again.

"Do you have…_any idea,_ any idea at all, what you could have done?" Kurt tries to yell at Blaine, but his voice sounds breathy, like he's unable to get enough air into his lungs. "Any idea what could have happened…if you had been found?"

When Kurt gets close enough, Blaine can see the sweat on his brow and the glassy look in his eyes, and it concerns him more than the tone of Kurt's voice.

"You-I-I," Kurt tries, but the words won't come out, and then his eyes close and he falls forward, Blaine catching him awkwardly with a quiet, "oh my god."

He panics, unsure of what to do with the passed out man he's holding. He's confused as to what caused this sort of reaction, but in his mind he chalks it up to the stress of having to put on such a dramatic show to try and hide Blaine within the small room.

"Kurt?" he whispers, shaking Kurt's body a little awkwardly to try and wake him up.

* * *

From across the city at the top of the Moulin Rouge, William sees Blaine's back through his telescope, mentally giving himself a pat on the back when he misinterprets Blaine's movements. "Right on target," he smiles, and his brain quickly thinks of ways that he could use the Duke's investments to do more than just build a stage.

_So many things my Diamond can bring me…_

* * *

"Bed, bed!" Blaine decides suddenly, adjusting Kurt's limp body and walking slowly toward the bed, not seeing his friends' heads pop up from behind the wall of the heart-shaped exit.

Blaine lays Kurt carefully down on the bed; letting go of his waist and climbing up on his knees in the process of getting up to leave when he hears the door open slightly and the Duke explain that he'd forgotten his hat. But when the door opens and he starts to steps inside, Kurt's eyes are open once more and the Duke is staring at Kurt and Blaine in shock.

"What is this?"


	6. Chapitre Cinq

**A/N: i wish i could update everyday or every week, but sometimes i just can't :(**

**this chapter is short, but it's really very important.**

**enjoy and don't be afraid to tell me what you think!**

* * *

Kurt opens his eyes at precisely the right moment; quickly glancing around the room to find Blaine lying practically on top of him and the Duke standing in the doorway.

"Oh, Duke," Kurt says softly, seemingly unphased by the man on top off him.

"It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside." the Duke sounds angry, but Kurt knows just how to handle a situation like this one.

"Wonderfully spoken, if I do say so myself." Kurt's voice is still a bit breathless from having just collapsed into Blaine's arms only moments before. "I'd like to introduce you to the writer."

"The writer?" the Duke asks incredulously, eyes staring daggers at Blaine as he closes the door and steps into the room.

None of this seems to phase Kurt, who pushes Blaine off of him and sits up slowly. "Yes, the writer. We were rehearsing."

The Duke laughs humorlessly. "You are expecting me to believe that in the middle of the night, wearing almost nothing, underneath another man on your bed-inside of an _elephant_-is just rehearsing?"

Blaine tries to hide his shaking hands behind his back while he waits for Kurt to find the proper response. But just as Kurt starts to panic a little on the inside, Puck practically bounces into the room from outside the window.

"How's the rehearsal going?" he yells excitedly, causing both Kurt and Blaine to turn and look at each other, immense relief clearly visible on both of their faces. "We'll take it from the top, alright?"

* * *

From where he looks on through his telescope across the city, William can see the Duke suddenly being crowded by Puckerman's excitable group of misfits.

"Oh, crap."

* * *

"When I spoke those words to you, Duke," Kurt starts, breaking the tense silence. "I just...I felt so inspired that I-I had to call Blaine right away and set up an emergency rehearsal."

"If you're rehearsing, where's Schuester?" the Duke asks suspiciously, making Blaine panic slightly again.

"I wasn't going to bother William-" Kurt starts, but he's interrupted-thankfully-but William barging into the room.

"Dearest Duke, I'm terribly sorry for all of this."

"William, you've made it!" Kurt says quickly, cutting off William's sentence. "It's alright, the Duke knows all about our _emergency rehearsal_."

"Emergency rehear-oh yes, yes! Well, I'm sure Sam will be delighted to know that-"

"He's left," Puck interrupts.

"Well, I guess that cat's out of the bag, William. The Duke is already a big fan of our new writer's work!" Kurt tells him, gesturing to Blaine who's practically shaking in his boots at Puck's side. "That's why he's so keen to invest," he continues quietly to William.

"Invest?" When Kurt nods, William's entire attitude seems to turn around. "Invest! Ah, yes, invest! You can hardly blame me for trying to hide our uh-"

"Blaine," Blaine mouths at him, hoping this won't throw everything off.

"-our _Blaine_ away."

"I'm far, far ahead of you, Schuester," the Duke says almost under his breath.

"Then why don't we go into my office and pursue paperwork?"

The Duke doesn't move, though. "What's the story? If I'm going to invest, I need to know the story."

"Well, uh...the story's about...Puckerman?"

Puck visibly blanches. "The story...well, the story's about-"

"Love!" Blaine jumps suddenly into the conversation for the first time all night. "It's a story about love overcoming all obstacles. But not just any love. A love between, uh...between two...men."

"And it's set in Switzerland!" Puck exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

"Switzerland," the Duke repeats, glancing back at William.

"Exotic Switzerland," he tries, but the Duke doesn't seem phased.

"India!" Blaine yells into the conversation, proud of his sudden decision. "It's set in India. And there's uh, there's a courtesan. And he's...the most beautiful courtesan in all the world. But his kingdom, it's invaded by an evil maharaja." Suddenly Blaine feels in his element, walking around the room and gesturing with his hands as he comes up with a plot. "And in order to save his kingdom, he needs to seduce the maharaja! But on the night of the seduction, he accidentally mistakes a-a penniless...a penniless...sitar player for the maharaja, and he falls in love with him!"

Blaine walks up to Kurt after grabbing the sitar from the corner and speaks directly to him. "He wasn't trying to trick the courtesan, of course, but he was _dressed _as a maharaja...because he's...appearing in a play!"

Finn chooses that exact moment to interrupt, grabbing the sitar and looking the Duke dead-on. "I play the penniless sitar player," he says, his accent thick. "He will sing like an angel...but dance...like the _devil_!"

"And what happens next?" the Duke asks, still unsure about the entire thing.

"The penniless sitar player and the courtesan must hide their love," Blaine says excitedly. "Because not only is the courtesan supposed to be seducing the maharaja, he also shouldn't be so in love with another man."

"The sitar player's sitar is magical," Mike pushes through the crowd to announce. "It only speaks the truth!"

"And I will play the magical sitar," Puck says, grabbing the sitar from Blaine's hands before turning to Kurt. "You sing beautifully," he says after pulling a string. "You are ugly," he says to William with a smile. "And you," he turns to the Duke, "are-"

FIve hands quickly cover his mouth.

"And he gives the game away!" the Duke adds, finally seeming excited.

"Tell him about the CanCan, Blaine!"

Blaine looks at William for one split second with confusion before he tries to make up an explanation. "The Tantric CanCan...its a-a-"

"Its an amazingly erotic scene which captures the thrusting, vibrant, passionate and wild Bohemian spirit that this entire production embodies!" William finishes, smiling widely at the Duke.

"And what does that mean exactly, Schuester?"

"It means that the show will be a magnificent, stupendous, opulent, tremendous, gargantuan bedazzlement! A sensual ravishing! It will be..." William pauses and gestures to the group behind him, which splits in half to let Mike reach the piano before he proudly sings the rest of his explanation. "_Spectacular, spectacular; no words in the vernacular can describe this great event! You'll be dumb with wonderment."_

The Duke looks stunned silent at the sudden performance while William keeps singing, finishing his verse and looking expectantly at the group surrounding Kurt's private stage.

_You'll be involved artistically... _they all start to sing together, the single line a mess of different voices trying to combine correctly. Quickly they find their footing just as the start their energetic chorus, walking toward the Duke in a tight clump until he falls into the chair behind him, finding a glass of champagne to his left.

_So exciting _

_The audience will stomp and cheer _

_So delighting _

_It will run for fifty years _

_So exciting _

_The audience will stomp and cheer _

_So delighting _

_It will run for fifty years _

The entire room becomes their stage for some sort of backwards rehearsal, each person throwing out different ideas that make up this wild, spur-of-the-moment show. They repeat their small chorus and William's original verse again and the Duke almost smiles, his lips twitching upward just a little. It's progress though, which adds enthusiasm to the number.

"_The hills are alive, with the sound of music!" _ The group sings together before jumping into their mismatched chorus once more, completing the song and the explanation of the show with one final note.

Or so they'd thought.

"Yes, but what happens in the end?" the Duke asks, causing the group to scatter to clear the floor and pull the curtain over the stage before pushing Blaine out from behind it.

He clears his throat and a spotlight hits his face, stepping back with his arms pointing toward the opening curtain.

"_The courtesan and sitarman are pulled apart by an evil plan_," Blaine sings proudly, directing the Duke's attention to the scene on the stage. Kurt and Finn are pressed close together awkwardly, hands clasped, before they're being pulled apart by William.

"_But in the end he hears their song_," Kurt continues then, looking up at Blaine from the stage with sparkling eyes before turning back to Finn.

"_And their love is just too strong,_" Blaine sings back softly, smiling when Kurt's head turns slowly to look at him in subtle shock. Blaine's smile widens with the hope that the glint in Kurt's eyes hadn't just been the lights.

"_It's a little bit funny," _the Duke sings, his singing voice just as creepy as his speaking voice, if not a little scratchier. "_This feeling inside..." _

Kurt and Blaine break their gaze at the sound and join the rest of their group with their grand finale.

"_The sitar player's secret song helps to flee the evil one_," Blaine sings while everyone else acts out the story on stage. "_Though the tyrant rants and rails, it is all to no avail._"

"I am the evil maharaja!" William's voice booms, everyone bowing before him.

"William, no one could play him like you could!" Kurt interrupts, sitting up on his knees.

"And no one will!"

Quickly everyone moves into a clump again, beginning the finale of their number for real.

_So exciting _

_Will make them laugh, will make them cry _

_So delighting..._

"And in the end should someone die?" the Duke interrupts again, smiling widely and waving his glass of champagne.

Kurt and Blaine exchange a look before everyone takes a deep breath, running rampant and dancing around the Duke.

_So exciting _

_The audience will stomp and cheer _

_So delighting _

_It will run for fifty years!_

When the song finally finishes, everyone is posing in different areas of the room, everyone entirely silent except for the sounds of people catching their breath.

Kurt chances a glance at Blaine across the room, surprised to find that Blaine was already looking in his direction. Kurt smiles brightly at Blaine and Blaine returns it, heart fluttering at how gorgeous Kurt looks when he's happy.

Blaine tears his eyes away from Kurt's when he hears the Duke clear his throat.

"Generally I like it."

Before the Duke can say anything else, everyone jumps up from the ground and cheers, surrounding the Duke's chair and hugging him joyfully.

* * *

_Schuester had an investor...and the Bohemians had their show, _Blaine types slowly, grabbing his mug to sip his room temperature coffee. His room is dark and cold and it lacks the vibrancy that Kurt had brought to it; lacks the happiness and love and passion that Blaine had once had here. Telling this story is the most difficult thing he's ever had to do, though all he wants to do is sleep away the rest of his life.

But Kurt wanted him to write, and so his fingers continue to press roughly at the keys of the typewriter. _While the celebration raged on upstairs, I tried to write. I couldn't, though, because all I could think about was Kurt. _

_But was he thinking about me?_


	7. Chapter 7

I am so, so sorry it took me MONTHS. but i promise i'm going to finish this. I promise.

* * *

It was a celebration unlike any other, inside the Moulin Rouge.

But Kurt and Blaine both sat alone, both staring out of their respective windows, thinking about each other.

Kurt had never been so conflicted. He could hear Blaine's words echoing in his head, all of them, the words that almost made Kurt believe that he had purpose in this life besides pleasuring men for money.

Something in Kurt's mind clicked, but he couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was. He stood from his chair slowly, drawn to the other end of the room just by the feeling in his gut that Blaine was there.

He could see him, sort of, across the darkened street and through two windows, could see the way Blaine's eyes were trained directly on the red of the vest that Kurt wore. He could see the way Blaine looked away quickly as soon as his eyes locked on Kurt's, the way the writer sat back down at his deck and tried unsuccessfully to glance elsewhere.

Blaine furiously began typing again, engrossing himself in his work while Kurt watched from across the way. Watching Blaine write, watching him do what he truly loved, Kurt's heart skipped a beat. The one thing he wanted in life, deep down, was the chance to do what he loved; to act, to sing, to _shine _like the star his father had once told him he was.

_"One day I'll fly away, leave all this to yesterday,"_ Kurt sings softly, so quietly that if someone had walked past, his bedroom door, they wouldn't hear him at all. He stares across the street and directly into Blaine's window, slightly stunned when Blaine looks in his direction as if he'd heard a sound.

_"What more could your love do for me? When will love be through with me?" _Kurt sings just a little louder, part of him hoping that Blaine can see the way he can pull truth directly from the deepest parts of Kurt's own mind and heart. Blaine stands suddenly, leaning against his window and watching Kurt with a look of sheer adoration, a look that scares Kurt enough to make him turn away.

"_Why live life from dream to dream? And dread the day when dreaming ends_," Kurt sings, his eyes glassy though he turns to catch Blaine's eyes again.

It's then that Blaine's mouth is moving, making out words that Kurt can't hear. Careful not to hook his silk vest on a corner, Kurt climbs through the heart-shaped window of his home and climbs the steps to the roof. But when he sits with his legs tucked underneath him, he doesn't hear the sounds of someone behind him.

Kurt could swear he hears someone, so he turns his head and promptly jumps to his feet.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Blaine says quickly, stepping closer. "I truly didn't mean to scare you, I-I, uh, I saw your lights were on and then I saw you out here and I...I climbed up here because I...wow, that sounds bad. I couldn't sleep."

"So you came up here. On the roof of my home."

"Yes?" Blaine pauses, at a loss of what to say. "I...wanted to thank you? For helping me. Get the job."

"Oh. Yes, of course." Kurt sounds almost sad, and it hits Blaine's chest like a knife. There are so many things he'd wanted to say: how stunning Kurt looks in the moonlight, how his eyes almost sparkle; how Blaine would give anything to kiss him here. But there are things he has to keep to himself. "You're very talented, Blaine, and I'm sure it's going to be a wonderful show. But I...need to go. We both have a big day tomorrow."

Kurt nods, a fake smile on his face, and then he turns to leave. Blaine nearly lets him leave, but something in his heart wants to beg Kurt to stay.

"Kurt? Wait. Please." Kurt stops, sighing deeply but turning regardless. "I...when you thought I was him...I mean, when you thought I was the Duke, you told me that you loved me. And I was wondering if...if you meant it? Or if-"

"If it was just an act?" Kurt interrupts, and Blaine can almost picture the walls in Kurt's mind building up. "Of course it was an act."

"But it...it felt real."

"Blaine," Kurt whispers, coming to stand directly in front of Blaine and placing a hand on his cheek. "I am...I'm a courtesan. I am paid to make believe what they want to believe. I'm-"

"I understand." Blaine tries to smile, but it looks more like a grimace. Kurt's face softens and he strokes Blaine's cheek with his thumb gently, the gesture leaving tingles on Blaine's face.

"It was...it was silly of me. To think that someone...someone like you, someone beautiful like you...could ever fall in love with me."

"I can't fall in love with anyone, Blaine," Kurt says softly, stepping back, the distance making Blaine shiver with a sudden gush of cold.

"You can't fall in love? A life without love...Kurt, that's...that's terrible!" Blaine takes a step back out of shock, his eyes wide as they look anywhere but at Kurt's.

"There are things much worse than that, Blaine! Being on the streets? That's terrible!"

"No!"

"What?" Kurt gasps, staring at Blaine in disbelief.

"Love is like...it's like oxygen. Love is a many-splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong, I...all you need is love."

"Don't start this again-"

"All you need is love."

"A man has got to eat, Blaine-"

"All you need is love-"

"Blaine!"

"_All you need is love, love_," Blaine sing-songs, getting a small smile out of Kurt in response.

"Love is just a game," Kurt responds, but Blaine is persistent now.

"One night, Kurt? Please? Give me just one night?"

"You can't pay the fee, Blaine," Kurt argues again, despite the smile on his face and the giggle he emits.

"In the name of love-"

"I won't give in to you!"

"Don't leave me this way," Blaine pouts, laughing when Kurt scoffs. "Please, Kurt?"

It's silent for a moment, and then Kurt sings softly, walking backwards toward the steps. "_You'd think that people would've had enough of silly love songs..."_

_"But I look around me and I see it isn't so, oh no," _Blaine continues, and Kurt bites his lip to hide his smile.

"_Some people wanna fill the world with silly love songs..._"

"But what's wrong with that!" Blaine asks loudly.

"Blaine-"

"I'd like to know!" Blaine laughs, his hand cupping Kurt's cheek gently, their faces coming close just before Kurt pulls away, turning around and walking the opposite way. "'Cause here I go again..."

Blaine climbs as high as he can, to the top of the elephants head where the lights glow blue like Kurt's eyes in the moonlight. "Love lifts us up where we belong!" he yells into the night, arms flung outward and his smile wide.

"Get down, Blaine!" Kurt demands, but Blaine just keeps singing, both of them completely aware of the fact that Kurt is fighting a losing battle.

"Love makes us act like fools," Kurt throws in bitterly, pulling Blaine carefully by the hand so he steps down. Blaine loses his footing at the bottom, though, falling into Kurt's open arms, arms that wrap tightly around Blaine's waist to keep him steady and don't move. "Throw our lives away for one happy day," Kurt grumbles, but Blaine smiles up at him.

"We could be heroes. Just for one day," Blaine whispers, amber eyes shining with wonder and love. Love? Is it really love that Kurt sees in this man's eyes? Love for him, for _Kurt_, not just for his body?

"You'll be mean," Kurt tries to argue, but Blaine laughs.

"No, I won't."

"And I-I'll...drink. All the time!"

"We should be lovers," Blaine says softly, reaching forward to grab Kurt's hand.

"Nothing could keep us together."

"We could steal time!"

"Just for one day?" Kurt asks, and Blaine's heart melts with the realization that he did it. Blaine pulls him close, dancing with him across the small space they have.

"_How wonderful life is_," Kurt sings, and they're so close that he can feel Blaine's breath on his lips. "_Now you're in the world._"

Blaine huffs out a small laugh, and Kurt whispers, "You're going to be bad for business. I can tell."

As the distance closes between them, for the first time in his life, Kurt has not a single care in the world.


End file.
